We made the trek south to McDonough , Georgia
This fact was driven home and elaborated on by the preacher
at her funeral. The preacher just happens to be married to the granddaughter of
Jessie Lee (MawMaw to them). In the service, he talked a lot about food, along
with some family memories and stories.
I imagine it was the only time that Jessie Lee was at a
funeral without bringing one of her delicious cakes. I hope some of her kids/grandkids/greatgrandkids
learned to cook like she did.
When I was growing up, my dad's sisters and brothers would
get together on Thanksgiving, taking turns every year at a different house,
everyone bringing covered dishes. One year at Louise's, one year at our house
in the mountains, one at Jessie Lee's. One year at Allene's house, but wait -
not there as Allene didn't cook J.
When it was time to go to Jessie Lee's house, we all knew we
were in for a treat as she was the best cook in the family. I remember her
husband, Wilbur (my dad's older brother) would always be sitting back in the
den in his recliner watching a ball game. My first cousins - Billy, Gloria,
Barbara - were all older than me, all grown up with jobs and everything. So it
was just me and cousin David who was 3 years younger than me. He would take me
outside to play in his yard. We knew better than to venture into
the junkyard next to the house, his father Wilbur's used parts business.
But it was fascinating looking out over what seemed like acres of old cars seemingly
just dropped off there, some rusted out, some without hoods or tires, grass
growing up between them, a very tempting place to explore.
Then it would be time for dinner and we would all gather
around Jessie Lee's table, drag Uncle Wilbur from the TV, and have a big family
dinner. It felt good to be part of a big family, listening to the stories,
seeing my dad with his siblings, noticing the resemblances. And all that food!
Thanksgiving is a wonderful tradition and I learned early to be thankful for
family.
Of course with time we all grew up and grew apart, it is sad
but true, and like so many families the only time we see our cousins is at a
funeral.
After the funeral yesterday we made our way over to the
cemetery and watched Jessie Lee be laid to rest next to her husband and
daughter. We wandered down through the grassy field turned cemetery looking at
names (wow, I have never seen so many Austins in one place) until
we found my parents. Melissa remembered being there for my dad's funeral, the
21 gun salute, the souvenir shell casings gathered and given to the grandkids,
the flag from the coffin being folded and presented to my mom. Carrie didn’t remember
it as clearly, but she did remember the shots being fired, so loud!
I visited with my first cousins Billy and Barbara and met
some new generations of Austins ,
it is good to connect to family.
Memories of the past filled the day on Saturday, I tried to
remember and share some stories with my girls on the drive south. Like the one
about the butter and egg money saved to buy a house in town, the Thanksgiving
dinners, how Allene sold her house to the bank with the arrangement that she
could live out her life there, but mostly about Jessie Lee and her smiling face
and good food.
Rest in peace aunt Jessie Lee, like the preacher said, you
affected hundreds of lives over your 100 years, and they are all better people for
having had you in their lives.
I am glad to have had you in my life and family and
memories, and honored to include you as a part of where I'm from.
your niece, Susan
